


Easy

by Marauder_Lupine



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Infidelity, Episode: s04e01 The Six Thatchers, Hurt/Comfort, Johnstrade, M/M, Texting, The Six Thatchers Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 00:46:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9212207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marauder_Lupine/pseuds/Marauder_Lupine
Summary: They both know it isn't right, but when he's overwhelmed by his marriage and fatherhood, John turns to Greg because it's so easy.When Mary is gone, Greg shows up to make things easier for John.Spoilers for The Six Thatchers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Last warning. Here be spoilers.

Mary’s body hadn’t been in the ground more than 48 hours when Greg walked up to the Watson’s door in the early afternoon. He hesitated before knocking, his hands balled up in his coat pockets. Maybe he should have called first, he thought. But he knew the call would have gone unanswered. He very nearly turned and walked away, but he withdrew one hand and knocked lightly before he could change his mind.

He half expected to be ignored, so he was surprised when John opened the door, baby Rosamund nestled against chest. The smile John put on the moment he saw him though, Greg knew, was not genuine. It was protection.

John had to look like he was doing well, otherwise he’d seem weak and he’d get those sorry, pitiful looks people offered when you’d lost someone. He couldn’t stand that. Not when Sherlock had “died" and left him and not now that Mary had gone and left him and their daughter as well. He wanted to be angry and upset and not have to worry the people who were only trying to help him.

Greg stepped into the flat when John stood to the side and motioned him in. It was messy. There were clothes hanging off the backs of chairs, unwashed dishes in the sink, and a scattering of papers across the coffee table. It looked like the flat of someone with an infant who kept him busy and up at all hours, not like someone who was so depressed he didn’t have the energy to clean up. That was a good sign, he figured.

“Was there something I could do for you, Greg?” John asked.

“Molly asked me to come by,” Greg explained. “Said you asked her not to come over.”

“Oh,” John said. Greg imagined he heard a slight disappointment in his voice, but quickly dismissed the thought.

***

That first night, John had lain in bed, his phone gripped tightly in his fist against his chest. He’d wanted to turn it on and type out a message that said, “Miss you.” Not something he would normally text to anyone besides his wife, but she was gone now and even with his little girl in the next room, soundly sleeping, he felt utterly alone and desperately wanted company.

He couldn’t though; he laid in bed all night, never letting go of his phone, but never turning it on. It was he who had put a stop to their texting after all. John couldn’t even remember who had started it in the first place. He and Greg had always gotten along pretty well. It was Sherlock who connected them, but it hadn’t taken very long to know they would become fast mates.

It was Sherlock who connected all of them really, but he and Greg had an easy friendship. In fact, aside from Sherlock, he couldn’t think of anyone else he’d become such good friends with so quickly. It was hard to find anyone who didn’t like Greg from the start though. He was a kind, confident man whose sense of self-deprecating humor was matched only by his sense of justice. If you were lucky enough to call Greg your friend, he’d move mountains for you. Or call in half the Met for backup, as it were.

At some point over the last few months, their easy friendship had become something entirely different. When John realized how truly scared he was of impending fatherhood, or when he was struggling to trust his wife after all they’d gone through, it was always Greg he turned to for help, for support, or for just an ear to listen. He couldn’t pin-point when their friendship had changed exactly because it had happened so easily. Everything was with Greg - just so easy.

It seemed so natural when their good natured joking bordered on flirtatious and it was almost scary how quickly their flirtatious joshing stopped being a joke. Before long they weren’t going for more than a day without taking a minute during rushed lunch breaks or in-between seeing patients to send each other a quick, simple “hello you,” or “Sherlock’s run off to find a goat’s brain. Entertain me for a bit?”

John had known it wouldn’t end well. It couldn’t; he was a married man after all, and with a baby. But still, when he heard his phone vibrate against the nightstand one night, just as Rosamund had started to cry, he picked it up and answered. Then he took Rose and his phone into the other room and let Mary get a few more hours of sleep.

 _Bad time. Sorry._  
John read when he opened the next message. Something was up.

_Not at all._   
_Rosie’s fussy._   
_No one’s getting much sleep._

_Poor thing._

John smiled a bit, stroking his daughter’s soft hair before replying.

_Me or the baby?_

_:)_

John frowned when after a minute no other message popped up.

_Tell me what’s wrong._

He waited anxiously for the reply.

_I’ve already said._   
_I want to see you._   
_Tonight?_

_Yes. I miss you too._

That evening when they met for a drink - a regular occurrence for them, not at all out of the ordinary - Greg greeted him with, “hello, love.”

Lately, things like that had been slipping easily from Greg’s lips. Each time Greg followed it with a mumbled apology. John would blush lightly and tell him it was fine.

Of course it wasn’t fine though. Nothing about what they were doing was fine, not when they were meeting at a bar on the other side of the city, where they were less likely to run into anyone they knew. Not when they kept an acceptable space between them whenever Mary and Sherlock were around, but always caught each other’s eye the second they were in the same room together.

Not when Mycroft caught a glimpse of John’s phone then summoned them both to his office the next day to explain that while he had no interest in their budding relationship, he would not hesitate to expose them should their affair compromise his brother’s wellbeing.

It felt fine though, when they sat down at what had become their usual table. The one against the wall in the back where it wouldn’t seem so strange to see them sitting closer together than was probably necessary.

“Sorry about this morning,” Greg told him sheepishly. “Rough couple of days. You know how it is.”  
John nodded. “Yeah, you look it.”  
“Ta,” Greg grinned.  
“You look done in, is all,” John laughed.  
Their waitress set their drinks down.  
“I feel done in,” Greg said when she walked away. “Still wanted to see you though.”  
“I know,” John apologized. “All this business with the Thatcher busts, Sherlock’s been madder than usual. And the baby isn't sleeping through the night, which means Mary and I aren't either.”  
“You don’t owe me any explanation, John,” Greg said with a sympathetic smile, taking a drink of his beer.  
John did the same. He knew Greg didn’t really expect an explanation either. “I have though,” he said after a moment. “Wanted to see you.”  
Greg’s face lit up in a slow, lazy smile. “Tell me then, what’s little Rose been up to?”

They’d stayed only an hour before Greg was called back into the Yard for a developing situation. John worried about that Greg was working many hours with not enough rest. Greg apologized to John and offered him a ride home. Driving through the city, John considered their evening and how Greg had delighted in the story of Rosie’s first experience with solid foods which ended in her and Mary both covered in pureed veg. If he thought about it for too long, John could see why maybe that might be an odd thing for them to talk about considering the reason they were out at the bar to begin with, but it felt too familiar to John for him to really care much about it.

Again, it occurred to him just how easy it was to be with Greg. Sitting there in the London traffic, he turned to look at the other man who had a crease across his forehead at the slow moving cars. John smiled and when Greg reached for his phone charging in the console between them to check for an update, he grabbed his hand, holding it for a moment before giving it a squeeze.

“John,” Greg started, but didn’t exactly know what to say.  
John quickly let go, embarrassed. “Sorry, I just…”  
“Don’t be,” Greg tried again after a moment to gather his thoughts. “I just don’t even know what it is we’re doing anymore.”  
“Well we haven’t done that before,” John said with what he hoped was a nonchalant shrug. “Just felt like trying it.”  
Greg nodded, keeping his eyes on the road, getting them to the next light before they had to stop again. “Whatever it is we’re doing,” Greg started. “It’s not right, is it? But God help me, I want it anyway.”

He was right, but they hadn’t really been _doing_ anything, had they? Even as the thought crossed his mind however, John knew that wasn’t entirely true. It was true that they hadn’t done anything like that before, but their definite attraction to one another was long past innocent. There were hidden reasons behind their pub nights now, intimate declarations in their text messages, and secret meaning in their every smile and hello. There would be consequences to their actions, to their feelings for one another if anyone found out and so they had to hide them - and that was absolutely wrong.

“I know,” John agreed. “It was so easy in the beginning.” John felt his throat close up. He pursed his lips trying to control his breathing.  
Greg looked at him, his deep brown eyes seeing how difficult it was for John to admit this. “So easy it’s getting harder not to just let it happen,” Greg said for him. John nodded trying very hard not to say something he might not be able to take back. He focused on the lights trailing across the dark sky as they drove on.

The traffic had broken up and after several long minutes driving in silence, Greg said, “You know me. Even better now than before, so I hope you know that nothing’s changed. I’m not going anywhere. I’m just asking you to be very careful, John, that’s all.”

Greg reached over and grabbed John’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He gave him another lazy smile when John squeezed back, stipl a little unsure of what was happening. Greg didn’t let go for another three blocks, not until they were turning onto John’s street.

***

“And I wanted to see you,” Greg admitted, his face quickly dropping to look at the little girl rousing from her slumber at the deep voices in the otherwise quiet flat. “Tell me what you need,” he added after a moment.

John moved the baby to rest on the crook of his elbow, giving himself a few moments to just think clearly.

It had been a month now since John had sent that last message to Greg, but it seemed an entire lifetime ago. And it was, he supposed. His entire life with Mary had been cut short since then. He had an entirely new life now, one he was struggling to get on with, one that was solely focused on doing what was best for Rosamund.

He had no right, not after the way he’d broken things off with Greg, not after avoiding him for weeks after, to ask Greg to be there for him now when he needed him again. He gathered all the courage he normally reserved to keep from turning on his phone late at night and sending a text to the very man who stood in front of him to not ask anything of Greg right now. It wouldn’t be fair because he knew Greg would do whatever he asked.

All he could do was shake his head; he didn’t trust himself enough to say anything.

“Do you want me to clean up the flat?” Greg asked him when he realized John wouldn’t say anything more. He pointed to the door, “Do you want to go out and get drunk off your arse?” John shook his head again, hoping to strengthen his resolve. “I meant what I said before: I’m not going anywhere. So tell me what you need me to do for you, John.”

The one message Greg had sent him in return that day floated into John’s mind - I understand. Don’t give it a second thought, John. Greg made even their break up so damned easy. And it had been easy to not give it second thought when everything else started happening. But now...

John tried to remember why he had sent those messages that day on the bus. He’d started to feel like a crap husband and father because he spent half his time thinking of Greg or trying to hide that he was thinking of Greg. Which meant he wasn’t giving his all to his wife and daughter. He owed it to them to give them his all, to make their family his priority. It wasn’t easy though, and after thinking long and hard about it, John realized that what Greg had told him wasn’t just for John’s own good - about being careful - it was for Greg’s. Something would have to give sooner or later and John supposed they’d both known he could never leave his family.

His wife was gone and buried now though, but this little girl in his arms, his daughter, this bit of Mary he recognized when he looked at her, she was his priority and he had to be strong for her.

“I can’t keep letting other people come around, trying to help,” John explained. “I need to start taking care of Rose now. On my own.”

Greg stifled a laugh. John frowned.

“Ex-Army doctor dad,” Greg started. “Ex-assassin mum, and this little sweetheart still had you both at her mercy.” Greg ran a thumb over the little girl’s cheek as she blissfully ignored the grown ups. “You’re a great dad, John. But you can’t do this on your own and no one expects you to.”

John tried valiantly not to give in to this man. He knew he was right though. They’d been on their own for less than two days and John was exhausted. He wasn’t even sure he had enough nappies to get through the rest of the day to be honest.

“You make it too easy, Greg,” John said, his voice quiet and only just without a tremble.  
“Forget about all of that,” Greg told him. “I’m here for you - for the both of you - because you need someone. If not me, then Molly or Mrs. H.”  
“I don’t want them. I _wan_ t you,” John admitted, lowering his head in defeat. His entire body sagged in relief at having just said aloud what he’d wanted to say since that awful day Mary had died.

Greg was quick to close the gap between them though. In a matter of moments he had one arm curled around John’s shoulder, stroking the skin just peeking over his collar at the back of his neck while John let out quiet sobs against his chest. His other arm came up to support the weight of the baby in John’s arm. John’s grip was strong though, so he rested his hand against her small back, soothing her so she wouldn’t grow frightened at the sudden change.

“Tell me what I can do, John,” Greg whispered once John had steadied his breathing. The words hung in the air for a few long moments before John reacted.  
“Just this is good,” he said.

They stood just like that for a few minutes more. Greg’s deft hands massaging lightly at John’s neck, John’s arm wrapped around Greg’s waist, holding him in place, and Rosamund with one tiny fist in her mouth, drooling slightly on Greg’s sleeve while the other grabbed and pulled at her dad’s ear.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment, yeah? :)


End file.
